Exposure
by Mapu
Summary: My entry in the Classic Thunderbirds Forum: Challenge 2 suggested by AgentFive Write a fic with the title Space Oddity And An Occasional Daydream. But for the main character to not be John!


Print Date: 30/04/2006

**Exposure**

**By Mapu**

NOTES:  
_Thunderbirds belongs to Carlton, Gerry Anderson Productions and people who are not me_

_A response to the Classic Thunderbirds Forum: Challenge 2 suggested by AgentFive "Write a fic with the title "Space Oddity And An Occasional Daydream." (But for the main character to not be John! That'd be too easy!)"_

_Thanks to Phil for checking my facts and space terminology – any remaining mistakes are mine alone! Thanks Quiller for the excellent edit and pointing out the bits I forgot. And special thanks to Cynthia for the edit, my first non-family, non-internet friend to read and edit my raw work, a big step for me. This one is for her._

_--_

The immense power of his ship could be felt only as faint vibrations under Alan's fingertips as they rested lightly on the controls. As slight as the sensation was it still made the young man smile with pride and pleasure, there were few things in his life he enjoyed as much as piloting his bird. Thunderbird 3 was by far the biggest and most powerful in the fleet in terms of size and raw energy output. Although she had the potential to be difficult to fly, to Alan she was as natural as breathing. The massive craft seemed to respond to his instructions so swiftly that he sometimes wasn't even conscious of having made a flight correction. Beside Alan, in the co-pilot's position, sat Scott. His older brother was fully focused on the data reports in front of him and almost oblivious to the ship around him. Scott had spent most of the flight examining the available information and consulting with John for advice about the rescue they were about to perform and generally doing what he did best; making contingency plans. There was no doubt that, if it were at all possible, Scott would find a way to make the rescue work. Alan kept his focus on his job but listened in.

"FAB, John. We'll arrive on Thunderbird 5 in about twelve minutes. Be ready for a transfer to Thunderbird 3. You and Alan have the most space experience, and your knowledge of astronomical phenomena will be of use on site. I'll run rescue operations from Thunderbird 5 and take over your duties as monitor."

"Okay, Scott, I'll have my equipment prepped and ready to go."

Alan smiled. It wasn't often that he and John got to work together on a rescue mission. Usually one of them was filling the duties as space monitor and managing International Rescues incredibly complex communication system. He and John had a number of interests in common and while their personalities were nearly opposites, they got along incredibly well when ever they had the chance to spend any time together.

Docking with Thunderbird 5 went very smoothly, Alan nosed his ship in with a great deal of care and the considerable skill born of hundreds of hours of flight time. The station's docking clamps locked onto the ship with a barely discernable bump and Alan powered down his engines. Performing smooth docking procedures had become a matter of professional pride for both Alan and John and Alan was convinced that either of them could do the job blindfolded if they had to.

True to his word John waited at the station airlock for them to cycle it open with his gear and the extra equipment they would need, in two neat piles at his feet.

"Ready to go?" Scott asked unnecessarily, but with a welcoming smile, as he exited the airlock into the station itself, Alan only a few steps behind him.

"Yeah, ready, you just take good care of my station while I'm gone," John said picking up the extra equipment and handing it over to Alan. Alan took the containers and headed back toward the ship, sparing Scott a smile and wave of farewell.

"He's so excited. You'd think the pair of you were off on a vacation, not a rescue," Scott said as soon as Alan was out of earshot.

John smiled indulgently in the direction his youngest brother had vanished. "To tell you the truth, I feel it too. We're going to get a very close–up look at one of the rarest events there is. It's exciting."

"Just don't get too close. This is a rescue, remember. Even those scientists with their specially engineered suits that you're heading out to rescue have far more protection from this type of radiation that you do. Don't take any chances."

John smiled, touched at Scott's concern. "When do we ever, Scott?

"I just don't want either of you getting… distracted."

"What's the hold-up?" Alan's voice interrupted over John's watch communicator.

John picked up the rest of his gear and swung the straps over his shoulder. He slapped Scott on the shoulder. "Relax, Scott, we'll be fine, and we'll be careful."

Scott smiled and tapped his watch so he could talk to Alan. "Fire her up Alan, John's coming aboard."

"FAB," came the reply followed moments later by a deep rumbling vibration as Thunderbird 3's main engines roared to life.

John and Alan had been travelling for thirteen hours and were almost half way to the rescue zone when Scott called with a status report. From his face Alan surmised it wasn't going to be good news. He called John from his rest period to join him on the flight-deck so they could both hear the report at the same time.

Even though he'd just been woken from a sound sleep and was still rubbing his eyes, John arrived quickly and appeared alert and ready. "What's the sit-rep, Scott?" John asked as he took the co-pilot's seat.

"Not good I'm afraid. All seven of the astronomers on board the stricken research vessel are still alive, but two of them have been injured. They attempted to increase their life-support capabilities by rerouting power from some of their less critical systems, passed the area damaged by the meteor strike."

"Let me guess," John said interrupting, a look of dismay on his face. "There was an overload?"

Scott nodded. "You got it. The two who were working on the crossover were caught in the explosion and were injured. Neither critical but both are suffering burns and one has a fractured arm."

"What about their life-support systems?" Alan asked.

"They're in worse shape now, they have maybe fifteen hours left at most, before the atmosphere is contaminated with lethal levels of carbon dioxide."

"Great… that gives us maybe two hours to affect the rescue. Scott, we need more time than that," Alan said.

"We could increase our speed. Burn longer and brake harder," John suggested.

Alan shook his head. "No, no good. If we do that we won't have enough propellant for a controlled re-entry when we get back."

John thought about the problem for a few moments. "There are reserves on Thunderbird 5. We could expend what we need now, coast back then resupply at the station before attempting re-entry."

Alan nodded slowly. "That could work. It will be a long trip back to the station, though. Close to thirty five hours I'd guess."

"Yes, but we won't be in a hurry then," John pointed out.

"True. Scott, how much does Thunderbird 5 have to spare?"

Scott checked. "There's plenty to pull this off, without leaving the station short. Good thinking, John," he answered.

Alan nodded and grinned. "So we have a plan." He began calculating the fuel consumption and arrival time numbers.

"What's you're new ETA to the danger zone?" Scott asked.

There was a small pause as Alan checked his figures. "Best speed gives us an arrival time of about ten hours, fifteen minutes. The return trip will take closer to thirty six hours."

"The scientists should easily be able to hold out until we get there if they've had any training at all and don't panic," John said.

Alan agreed.

"There's another problem," Scott interrupted.

"Oh, good, we couldn't make this too easy."

"What is it, Scott?" John asked ignoring his younger brother's mutter.

"Brains thinks the radiation cloud is moving faster than the scientists have predicted, in fact he believes it's accelerating."

Alan and John shared a confused look. "How is that possible?" Alan asked his astronomer brother.

John shook his head. "I don't know, but phenomena like this have never been recorded before. Is Brains sure?"

"He says no, but he was doing that thing with his eyes and his stutter was worse than usual," Scott told them.

"He's sure," both blonde Tracy brothers said in chorus.

"Do we have an estimate of time?"

Scott sighed. "Fourteen hours, maybe less. He thinks the storm will last about an hour but he's not sure about that either. Whatever happens, you've got to get clear before the storm hits."

Alan nodded his agreement. "We're ready here Scott. Anything else we need to know?"

"Yes, be careful."

"FAB, Firing engines now."

The sudden hard acceleration slammed both men into their cushioned couches, and for a while the conversation between them became solely focused on the job of piloting the massive rocket.

--

Just over ten hours later and Thunderbird 3 had arrived on the scene of the rescue.

"Scott, we're on site. The damage looks pretty bad, most of the port side has been ripped open, and everything aft of the docking clamps looks to be open to space."

"What about the docking port?" Scott asked.

John was examining the research ship through his high resolution scanners and answered the question. "It's hard to be sure, it looks intact but if we dock and they've been compromised… a rupture could cost us both ships."

"Then you'll have to actually go across and use a transfer line."

"FAB."

"John, these scientists are fellow astronomers. Do you think you could be recognised?"

John thought about it for a moment and shrugged. "It's possible. I recognise most of the names and I've seen photos of a couple of them in publications before but I've never met any of them. It's possible some of them may have seen my face the same way."

"We won't chance it. Alan you'll be our point man on this one."

"Right, does Brains have a new estimate on the cloud's arrival?"

"Not yet, but I expect it any minute. He said something about corrupted readings and had to take more measurements to recalculate."

Alan stood up, allowing John to take over his place as pilot of Thunderbird 3.

"I got her. You'd better go get suited up." John said settling in to the seat.

--

Alan suited quickly but carefully, and took no shortcuts with the checks of his environment suit and life-support systems. He loved spacewalks and had no fear of the vertigo that being suspended in a weightless vacuum caused in most others. He trusted his equipment but was never careless. Not when he knew that just a few moments of checking could potentially save his life.

"I'm ready, John."

"Ok, just hold on a second. Scott's in contact with base. I think Brains has new information for us."

Alan used the time to move his gear, including the transfer cable into the airlock and closed the inner doors, ready for Scott's order to go.

It wasn't long before Scott called. "Guys, I think we may have to abort the rescue. Brain's report puts the edge of the cloud only about an hour away. "It's accelerated faster than anyone anticipated."

"It may be an affect of the solar winds," John suggested.

He couldn't see him but Alan imagined Scott nodding as he replied. "That's what Brains decided it was in the end. But whatever the cause the fact remains that you'll be engulfed by the worse of the radiation long before you can transfer those people."

"Scott, we can't just leave them here," Alan protested.

"We may have no choice. I'm open to suggestions," Scott stated.

"We transfer them all at once," Alan said quietly.

"Alan that's dangerous. Transfers are done one at a time for a reason. If one of them panics they could become separated and lost, or worse still they could take someone else with them," Scott said, frustration spiking his tone.

"Alan, there's seven of them. Even if no one panics, keeping them all together would be nearly impossible," John reasoned. He understood Alan's desperation to save the lives but he could also understand Scott's very justified fears.

"Then we do it in two groups, we can do that in under an hour," Alan insisted stubbornly.

"And if someone gets separated?" John asked.

Alan paused before answering. "Then we leave them behind," he said at last.

"Do you think you could?" Scott's earlier flash of temper gone.

"I'll have too," Alan's tone was subdued; he understood exactly what he was saying.

"All right, that's what we do. I'll call the station and set it up. We'll take four in the first group, the two injured men and two people to help them, then the last three in the second group. Alan if anyone is separated, I'm ordering you to leave them. You are not to attempt a recovery, there just isn't time for it, is that understood?"

"FAB, Scott," Alan said clearly relieved that they were going to at least make an attempt to save the scientists' lives.

--

Alan stood on the outer lip of Thunderbird 3's open airlock and gazed across the seemingly small gap between the two spaceships. The slowly rotating hulk of the research vessel floated against the stark black of space pierced by tens of millions of specks of light. Alan had always loved the view of stars from space, the light was constant and unwavering, unlike the weakly flickering versions that could be seen through Earth's thick atmosphere. Beyond the stricken vessel he could clearly see the bright splash of violent colours that was the approaching radiation storm. For a few moments Alan found himself mesmerised by the fluidly changing colours.

"We're in position, Alan. You're cleared to go when you're ready."

Alan acknowledged the call and taking a deep calming breath to prepare he pushed away from the relative safety of Thunderbird 3's airlock and floated out over the expanse of space toward the damaged ship, the transfer cable trailing out behind him. He had to make a careful approach because of the large amount of debris surrounding the damaged ship. As glittering and fragile as the tiny shards of metal appeared to be Alan knew that if he were unlucky or careless they could easily rip a hole in his suit.

At last he made safe contact with the side of the ship, anchored himself into position. Then he began to reel in the slack of the transfer cable. Once the line was tight he attached it to the side of the ship just above the emergency escape hatch. Once he'd checked that it was secure he called John.

"Transfer line's in place, John. We can start bringing them out now.

Alan watched as the hatch slid open to reveal all seven of the scientists waiting in a huddled group. Alan had expected that, but what he hadn't expected to see was the large number of boxes and equipment waiting with them. He switched his communications system over to a suit to suit setting so he could talk directly with them and pulled himself in through the hatchway. With his body blocking the exit Alan was able to provide a psychological barrier to the frightening view of emptiness behind him and at the same time provide a tangible barrier to prevent any impulse to rush headlong from the ship. It was impossible to tell how a group waiting to be rescued were going to react.

"I'm from International Rescue. As you were instructed we will be taking you across to our ship in two groups. First group will be the two injured personnel and two to help them. Are you ready?"

"I'm director Mackinin, the commander of this observation mission. As I told your commander, we can't leave our equipment, there are valuable observations already recorded, and if we're to continue our work on your vessel then we are going to need to take this gear across first and set it up. We will need to make three trips so…"

"Hey, slow down," Alan interrupted the man's rant. "That's just not going to happen. We are doing two trips, and transferring personnel only. There is no time for more than two trips. That radiation cloud is going to be here in less than an hour."

"Rubbish. The cloud is more than three hours away. We have plenty of time."

"Our information is more up-to-date than yours and our information has it that the cloud is accelerating."

"Accelerating? Ridiculous! Young man, I assure you we are experts in this field and we know what we're talking about. We have plenty of time to take our equipment…"

"No," Alan said firmly. "The equipment stays here." From the relief in a few of the other scientist's eyes Alan knew that director's view was not unanimous

"I want to talk to your superior," Director Mackinin demanded.

Alan sighed. "I'm sure he'll pleased to hear your concerns and discuss it with you but since he's on Earth it may have to wait until you're aboard our ship. Until then we will get these injured crew over first."

"Alan, where are you? Get a move on! We're running out of time here," John's voice came in over his communications set.

"All right, John, there's been a small complication but I'm brining the first group over now."

Alan pointed to the two injured men and the two who were already helping them. "You four follow me."

The four he'd pointed out needed no prompting and moved forward.

"Hey, I haven't finished with you, yet!" the Director insisted, his voice so loud that it caused a distortion through the suit radio. Alan winced at the uncomfortable sound of static overload. It was then that he realised that despite his apparent rationality, Director Mackinin was actually exhibiting a form of panic. Alan had seen it a dozen times before on rescues. People in this state of panic would sometimes run back into a burning or collapsing building to retrieve a book or an article of jewellery. Though they often sounded in control, it was not rational behaviour and the trick to dealing with it was to distract the person's priorities.

"Director Mackinin, first we have to get your injured people to safety where they can get medical help. Right?" Alan pointed to the two wounded men.

The director looked confused for a moment, looking at his hurt staff as if he'd only just then realised they were injured, then he nodded, "Yes, of course, we need to get Bray and Cooper to help first." He began pushing the selected four toward Alan and the exit. Alan now wished he'd insisted the director be one of the people to help with the wounded, the man would be a lot easier to deal with once he was on board Thunderbird 3.

Alan instructed the four scientists on how they were to attach themselves to the transfer line and gave them a clear warning not to go too fast or to allow themselves to lose contact with the line. He helped them link up and once they were ready he began to lead the way across to Thunderbird 3.

The first transfer went smoothly when and Alan had them settled in the large, comfortable lounge he pointed out the emergency medical supplies to them. All four were just relieved to be able to breathe clean air again. Alan left them to take care of each other while he went for the second group.

At the edge of the airlock it was clear to see that the radiation cloud was much closer. The cloud took up more than half the sky and the intricate detail and structure was now clearly visible. It was simultaneously beautiful and frightening.

"John, that cloud looks awfully close. How much time do we have?" Alan asked.

"It is close, Alan, but Scott and Brains think you still have enough time to transfer the others… just do it fast okay? No delays."

"FAB, John," Alan said pushing off and beginning the return trip across the gap. Alan made the return trip as fast as he could. The three remaining scientists were waiting for him. Director Mackinin had strapped several of the equipment bags to his suit and was arguing with one of the others. "Carol, I will not leave these findings behind. If we leave them our entire trip out here will have been a waste of time. Is that what you want, our mission to be a failure?"

"No, of course not, Thomas, but you heard the man from International Rescue. We don't have the time to worry about this stuff. Our lives are on the line."

"I'm telling you he's wrong, Carol, we still have time. Please, I'm begging you, help me take this stuff. It will only take us two trips to get it to their ship and we can still finish our research…"

"Ready to go?" Alan interrupted.

The other two scientists immediately joined Alan at the transfer line but Mackinin stayed, trying to hook another bag to his already overburdened suit. Alan led the man to the airlock, saying nothing about the equipment. Once Alan had Mackinin hooked onto the transfer line he swiftly detached the gear and shoved it back toward the airlock. Most of the bags made it back into the damaged ship but one ricochet from the opening and tumbled away into space. The speed at which the bag disappeared into the blackness was a sobering reminder to Alan just how easily it would be to become hopelessly lost in their present condition.

Together Alan and the three remaining scientists set off toward Thunderbird 3. Once they were clear of the research vessel the radiation cloud's proximity became obvious. Alan heard the sharp intake of breath from the astronomers.

"Oh, no! Our research will be ruined! I have to save it!"

Before Alan could react Director Mackinin had unhooked himself from the transfer cable and was using his suit jets to return to the research vessel. "No! Don't! Come back! Hook onto the line!" Alan called but either Mackinin couldn't hear him or he just wasn't listening.

He's going too fast, Alan thought as he watched the scientist jet toward the ship, both suit gas thrusters pumping out at maximum volume.

"Keep going to the ship, don't stop and don't let go of the transfer line," Alan instructed the others. He turned himself and jetted back toward the panicked man.

"Stop!" Alan called to him. "Cut your jets, you're going too fast."

Mackinin must have at last realised the danger he was in because he reversed the direction of his gas jets, attempting to slow himself but it was too little, too late. The scientist hit the edge of the emergency hatch in a silent but violent impact and his body rebounded, tumbling away.

"No!" Alan shouted and reached up to detach from the transfer cable.

"Alan! What are you doing?" John called to him.

Alan hesitated, his hand still on the release. "I can reach him. He's still in sight." Mackinin was tumbling, making no effort to control it.

"Alan, no, you don't have time. Remember Scott's order? No recovery attempts."

"John, I can't just leave him!"

"Alan, listen to me. You have to. The radiation is nearly on us. If you come back right now we just might get out of here before it hits, if we're lucky."

"John…"

"Alan, don't do it… please."

The quiet intensity of John's tone grabbed Alan's attention. He looked to where he'd last seen Mackinin, the man had vanished. Logically Alan knew that the other man, even if he were still alive, had far too much speed. Had he detached his line and tried to go after the other man Alan realised that he never would have caught him. They both would have been lost. Despite knowing that it was still hard to turn his back on the lost man and head back toward Thunderbird 3.

"Alan hurry, we're out of time," Alan pushed his jets as fast as they would take him, and then checked behind him. It really did look like the cloud was nearly on them.

"John, warm up the ship, and engage the airlock emergency nets. I'm coming in full speed."

A moment passed then John's voice came back to him, cool and professional. "Deployed and ready for you Alan."

Alan tried to keep his fear under control as the massive side of the Thunderbird loomed in front of him. At his speed the open airlock looked to be a very small target. Alan lined up his approach as best he could then turned so his back was facing the airlock and drew up his legs. He had to hit the safety nets with the flat of his back or he'd risk serious spinal or limb damage from the rapid deceleration. They'd tested these nets in the training simulations but none of them had ever done this for real before.

Turning gave Alan an incredible view of the phenomenon and he was witness to the moment when the coloured surge of radiation swamped the research ship. Alan felt a flash of remorse, even if Mackinin had survived his strike with the airlock of his ship the man was certainly dead now. The responsibility of failure weighed heavily on Alan's heart, he should have tried harder… he should have saved that man.

Alan hit the first of the nets with a solid jar, then as it was designed to, the net tore. An instant later Alan hit the second net and again the net slowed him before tearing and letting him fall through. The third net caught him and although it stretched to its maximum it did not break. The shock of the sudden stop left his senses reeling for a moment.

"You're through, closing the outer hatch. Alan, are you all right?"

John's voice sounded distant and confusing to Alan.

"I'm firing the engines. Alan, respond!"

"I'm okay, John," Alan mumbled.

"Alan! It's great to hear you, hang on, this might get rough."

Alan felt the net flex under him as the rocket engines began their burn. He began to believe he'd suffered a harder impact than he'd first thought, when he saw the strange fluorescent glow slip through the sealed airlock and drift like tendrils through the airlock, then he realised it was the radiation. Thunderbird 3 was being overtaken by the storm. One of the tendrils brushed across Alan's leg and he screamed in pain from the intense burning sensation.

"Alan, what's wrong?" John called.

Alan wanted to tell him about radiation breaching the airlock but at that moment a much larger and wider ribbon of light engulfed his whole body, and he was unable to make even the slightest sound. The pain was intense but it only lasted a fraction of a second before it became too much for him to take and he passed out.

--

John's concerned face was the first thing Alan saw when he reopened his eyes. "That bad?" he asked. His voice sounded strained and weak even to himself. He tried and failed to sit up.

"Alan, just relax for a minute and let me check you over," John admonished.

John glanced up to the panels above Alan's head, checking the medical readings and Alan waited patiently until his brother had finished his assessment. "You were really lucky," John began. "You've burns to more than 30 of your body but fortunately they are mostly 2nd degree. They'll hurt like hell for a while but you'll recover. There's a strange variation in the electrochemical output in your brain but it doesn't appear to be dangerous. I'm betting you have a killer headache?" John waited for Alan's nodded confirmation. "I'll get you something for it. You're lucky, there doesn't seem to be any lasting affects from the radiation. Are you in a lot of pain?"

Alan thought about it. "Not really, I just feel odd. Like I'm half asleep and can't wake up." Alan looked around the room and realised something was missing. "Where are the injured scientists?"

John looked surprised. "You remember what happened?"

"Yeah, up until I blacked out in the nets. You'll have to tell me what happened after that."

"We boosted as hard as we could, given our fuel situation and mostly managed to escape the radiation. I left the scientists in the lounge after you got them aboard and that's where they've stayed. I've been more concerned for you."

"What about the injured, are they all right?"

"Their fine, Alan, better than you are. I left them some supplies and they are pretty comfortable there. How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right John, it's just a headache. How's my ship?"

John reached into the cabinet beside him and took out a bottle. "The ship's fine. We're still about eight hours out from the station. You've been asleep for a while." John smiled. He handed Alan a couple of pale yellow pills. "Take these, they should help with the headache and dull the pain from the burns a little. Then maybe you should get more rest."

Alan rolled his eyes. "You said it yourself, John, I'm fine. I don't need more rest."

"No, I said you were lucky to be alive. Rest, rest and more rest is exactly what you need. You can either rest willingly like a good boy, or I'll find the biggest needle I can, fill it with sleepy-juice and make you rest. Your choice."

Alan sighed and relaxed back into his pillow. "All right I'll behave, no need to get nasty about it."

John smiled. "Actually it's not me. Scott will have my head if I let you get any sicker. The guy is in a near panic…"

As soon as John mentioned Scott's name Alan was inundated with disjointed images of his eldest brother shouting in surprise then toppling from a tall platform. The sight took his breath away and he gagged for air.

"Hey, Alan, are you all right?" John asked deeply concerned.

The images faded and Alan got control of his breathing. "Yeah, I'm fine, but I really don't want to go back to sleep. I promise to take it easy… please?" Alan asked, unable to keep a slight whine out of his tone.

"I don't know…"

"Please, John. I'll rest, I promise." Alan desperately did not want to go back to sleep. The images of Scott in danger he'd just seen were guaranteed to give him nightmares. He shivered slightly. John watching him closely caught the movement but didn't comment other than deepening his frown.

John sighed, giving in. "All right, but I can't leave you here. Do you think you're strong enough to join me in the cockpit?"

Alan grinned. "Sounds great to me, thanks John."

His brother helped him stand and stood by his side, ready to offer assistance and support should he need it, as Alan slowly made his way from the infirmary to the cockpit. The trip was painful, but he made it without complaint, just grateful to be upright.

John led him to the co-pilot's position and helped him settle into the seat. Alan, thankful for Brain's propensity to build extra comfort into all of his designs, let his body sink into the chair's cushioning feeling only the minimum of pain.

John eyed him speculatively. "Now you just sit. Keep your hands to yourself, no touching anything. Until further notice this is my 'bird, not yours. Got it?"

"Trying to trade up to a better 'bird huh? No deal, brother."

"Obviously delusional," John shook his head sadly. "But in consideration of your weakened and defective state I will chose to ignore your foolishness."

Normally statements like that would be merely the beginning of a spirited sparring war but Alan simply wasn't up for it and laid his head back letting his eyes drift over the instrument panel. He watched the indicators but if someone asked him to repeat any of the readings he wouldn't be able to. The drugs dulled the pain but the exhaustion radiating from every muscle in his body left him floating somewhere between waking and sleeping.

Alan was dimly aware of John calling Thunderbird 5 to report their progress and of Scott's responses to questions about his welfare.

An image of Scott standing on the edge of an unstable platform tangled among twisted wreckage came to his mind. Scott was reaching down with one hand, holding his position with the other. "Alan, take my hand!" Scott yelled. Concern etched deeply into his face. Alan realised he was looking up into his brother's face, so he could clearly see the exact moment when Scott lost his grip. His eyes widening in surprise, Scott tumbled forward and plummeted past Alan. In horror he saw his brother's body strike an outcropping of debris and ricochet away. Alan screamed.

"Alan! Alan, are you all right?"

"Scott!"

"Alan, take it easy, it's John. You're all right. Everything's all right, it was just a dream. Take it easy…" John's voice was steady and he gripped Alan's shoulders in a firm hold, his stare intense and controlled. Alan calmed himself.

"What's going on?" Scott sounded almost as frantic as Alan felt but he managed a shaky smile for John's benefit.

John turned back to the communications panel. "We're fine. Alan just had a bad dream, probably a side-effect of the pain-killers, but he's fine now." John looked to Alan as he spoke, for confirmation of his words. Alan nodded which seemed to satisfy John but he knew better. It hadn't been a dream. Alan had been awake through the whole thing. Even while watching Scott fall to his death Alan had known he was seated in the co-pilots seat of Thunderbird 3.

The rest of the trip back to the space station was uneventful. Alan spent most of the time sitting quietly in his seat, ignoring the occasional concerned glances his older brother sent his way. He managed a few hours of sleep, mostly to mollify John and awoke feeling less rested than before. He resisted John's attempts to get him to take more pain killers for several hours but in the end he had to submit. Without the drug his burns made any movement an absolute agony. John handed over the medication wordlessly but obviously relieved Alan had finally seen sense and accepted them.

Scott had obviously been waiting for them at the airlock because it took him less than a minute after docking procedures were complete to make it to the cockpit.

"Alan," Scott breathed, obviously relieved to see his youngest brother more or less in one piece. Alan felt an intense sense of dread wash through him at the sight of Scott's concerned face. Somewhere in the back of his mind Alan heard Scott shout his name and plead for him to take his hand. Alan shut his eyes against what he knew came next and shook his head. "No…"

Scott was quickly by his side. "Hey, kiddo, are you all right?"

Alan shuddered at his brother's touch and pulled away. Scott was clearly confused and a little hurt by the reaction but he let him go instantly and without comment.

"I'm fine." Alan told him. It was a lie, he felt very far from fine. He was afraid, confused and in a great deal of pain but the one thing he was now sure of was that he wasn't dreaming. Whatever on earth was happening to him, whatever it was he was seeing, it was happening when he was wide awake.

Scott looked confused and Alan found he could no longer look his eldest brother in the eye, he dropped his gaze down and away. Scott stayed by his side for a little while before climbing stiffly to his feet and after muttering something about helping John take care of their scientist guests he strode away. Alan sighed in relief. He knew Scott was angry with him but he couldn't help it, he couldn't bear to hear the sounds of him dying again in order to try and save him.

It wasn't too much longer before John came back up into the cockpit followed by a silent Scott. John looked uncomfortable as he looked between his younger and older brothers. "Ok, Alan, we're just about ready to head back to base. We need to get you settled in the infirmary for the trip home. If he expected Alan to argue he didn't show his surprise when Alan wordlessly got up and followed him to the infirmary.

Alan could see John had something on his mind, and sure enough once they were alone John turned to him and sighed. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Alan did not want to talk about it so he feigned ignorance. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, yeah you do, little brother. What did you say to Scott?"

"Nothing!" Alan said truthfully.

"Uh-huh, so… why's he suddenly convinced that you blame him for the rescue going wrong?"

That surprised him. "What, that's crazy. How could I blame him for that?"

John shrugged. "He thinks it's because he didn't warn us in time that the storm was coming. He's upset that you didn't have enough time to get clear."

Alan shook his head. "I don't blame him for that. I'm the only one who screwed up."

John rubbed his forehead as though he was developing a headache. "And how do you figure that?"

Alan looked at him incredulously. "I disobeyed orders, remember? If I hadn't tried to go after that man I wouldn't have been hurt at all, and we would have gotten clear in time. I risked everyone's life."

"Alan, stop! I told you before it wasn't your fault. You did good, real good."

Alan lapsed into silence but he still didn't believe it. John looked at him speculatively for a long minute. "Okay, so if you aren't mad at Scott for the rescue, what's the problem?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

John shook his head. "Well I do. I promise I won't even tell Scott if you don't want me to."

Alan was tempted, he really needed someone to tell him that the things were all right and what he was seeing wasn't going to hurt him, but most of all he needed someone to believe him, and of all his brothers John just might.

"It's not that. It's just that you're going to think I'm crazy," Alan said.

John smiled "I won't, at least No more than I already do. Does this have something to do with that nightmare you had?"

Alan nodded. "It wasn't a nightmare, I was awake, and it was so real. I could smell smoke in the air and taste blood in my mouth. I don't know what it was but it was no dream."

"Why don't you tell me about it, and we'll see if we can figure it out."

Alan told him how he could see Scott standing on a platform and trying to reach him and how he saw Scott plummet past him to what had to be his death. As he spoke Alan became trapped in the vision again. This time he could see further. He saw that what he'd thought was a platform was actually the side of a partially collapsed metal stairwell. Scott was wearing his International Rescue uniform and for the first time Alan noticed that it was filthy, as was Scott's face and the hand he reached down. It was a rescue in a burning factory of some type, Alan realised, and suddenly he could see the lick of flames far below him slowly creeping toward several large containers. He hung suspended over the empty space gripping only the twisted and mangled stair support bar. Scott must have climbed from the relative safety of the stable stairs out onto the collapsed section in order to reach him. Looking up past Scott, Alan could see the silhouette of Thunderbird 2 slowly gliding into position.

Scott would have been safe if it weren't for him. Hot tears burned his eyes at the thought.

"Alan… come-on, kiddo, snap out of it," John called to him.

"It's okay, I'm okay." Alan buried his head in his hands until he had control of his emotions again.

"All right, that was a little disconcerting. Are you sure you're all right?" John asked.

"It was my fault, I was trapped and he fell tying to save me."

"Alan… I don't know what's going on but this isn't real. Scott's fine, apart from being a little down. He is alive and well and hasn't fallen from any platforms."

"No," Alan said calmly "And if I have anything to do with it, he never will."

"Alan…"

"John, Scott's probably wondering what's keeping you, unless he already knows," Alan said suspiciously.

John held up his hands, "I'm not here on instruction, Alan. I'm just worried about you, as is Scott."

Alan nodded, "I know, thanks, I'm tired. I really just want to go home."

John smiled. "That I can arrange, just sit tight and we'll have you home in no time."

True to John's word the return flight from Thunderbird 5 to the island base was smooth and over quickly. Alan waited impatiently as he was hustled from the spaceship infirmary to the base infirmary. There Brains and Tin-Tin ran a number of test on him with his father and brothers looking on anxiously. Anytime Alan thought he'd had enough and was ready to simply refuse anymore tests, prodding or treatment he would catch a glimpse of his father's face and he would calm down and let Brains run his test. His father looked terrible. Alan couldn't remember a time when his father had looked worse. It was not hard for him to believe that his father hadn't slept since the rescue began. Alan resigned himself to the examination

"Brains?" Jeff Tracy asked anxiously when at last the examination was finished.

It wasn't until Brain's examination confirmed John's preliminary results that Alan realised that he'd be subconsciously waiting for confirmation as well. Even though John had basically told him the same thing, and he implicitly trusted his older brother, there was just something reassuring about having Brains tell him he was going to be all right and suffer no long term problems from his exposure to the cloud's radiation.

Jeff Tracy sighed in profound relief. Gordon shared a wide grin with Virgil, and John smiled softly. The tension released in Scott's shoulders fractionally but his face remained impassive.

Jeff Tracy turned to Virgil and Gordon. "You two better get going, you need to get those people back to their families. I've called the spaceport and they'll be expecting you."

"FAB, Dad."

"See you soon, Alan."

Then two of his brothers were gone. The normalcy of the order to remove the rescued scientist from the base and take them back to where they belonged was a comfort to Alan and he felt himself growing drowsy.

As he drifted toward sleep Alan could hear his father and Scott's deep baritones discussing his status. It seemed to be a mutual decision that he was to be on medical leave for a while. The thought didn't bother Alan, he'd been expecting that, besides after seeing the things he'd seen, he was no longer sure he would be of much use on a rescue ever again. Outwardly his body relaxed deeply and stilled but internally Alan's mind roiled with terrible images. Over and over again as he slept Alan witnessed Scott's fall.

After two weeks of rest Alan's body had nearly recovered but the dreams still plagued him both day and night. Gordon found him sitting on an outcropping of rock at the end of the island's northern beach. The tide was high and the beach had been reduced to a narrow strip of golden sand, gently lapped by slow, fat waves giving the area a feeling of peace and calm seclusion. That was the reason Alan had picked the spot, he'd needed time and a place to think, a place where he could make a few hard but necessary choices. He felt a momentary flash of annoyance at his brother for disturbing him but it faded quickly. He knew his family were all worried about him. Since his injury they had been hovering around him. Alan knew it wasn't so much the injury that had them worried it was his attitude and the fact that he barely ate or slept anymore. He wasn't stupid, he knew he looked terrible, he'd lost weight and the last time he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror a stranger had looked back at him.

"There you are!" Gordon called out, and began climbing up toward him one handed. Gordon's other hand held a small carry pack which he took pains to ensure stayed upright as he climbed.

"Here I am, and here you are."

Gordon ignored his dry greeting and settled himself on the rock beside Alan looking out over the calm seas. "Be a good day for a reef dive, interested?"

Alan shook his head. "No thanks."

"Shame, next time then."

Alan shrugged non-committal.

"You missed lunch. So grandma made you a picnic pack," Alan began to refuse the meal but Gordon cut him off before he could get a word out." And before you tell me that you're not hungry I want to remind you that I just carried the damn thing clear across the island for you."

Alan glanced at his watch and found that he really had been away for a long time. He was mildly surprised that it had taken his family this long to send someone after him, but it was not at all surprising that it was Gordon who was the family's delegate.

Alan smiled and gave in. Although he didn't feel even remotely hungry he knew he needed to eat… and it would be a way for him to avoid telling Gordon of his decision for a few more minutes. The lunch pack turned out to have more than enough in it for Alan to share the bounty with his brother and the pair sat and ate in companionable silence, this simple pleasure was something he was going to really miss.

"Gordon, I have something to tell you," Alan began awkwardly.

Gordon sighed. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"No. I'm leaving the island. I'm resigning from International Rescue."

Gordon's mouth dropped open and for a moment there was stunned silence before he exploded into a near-shout. "What! Are you crazy? No! Alan, you can't do that! I know you've been upset these last few weeks since that rescue went bad but this is not the answer. We can work it out, get you some outside help if you need it, but you can't just throw it all away because of one bad rescue. Alan, you have got to know that guy's death was not your fault!"

Alan had been expecting resistance and even confusion over his decision but he was surprised by Gordon bringing up director Mackinin's death, and he realised that his whole family must believe that the scientist's tragic death was the reason for his strange behaviour of late. "Is that what you all think? That I'm suffering some sort of breakdown over his death? Gordon, I've lost people on rescues before, we all have."

"Yeah we have, but sometimes it hits us harder than other times. Nobody blames you for his death Alan, you did an incredible job out there but we're not the ones that need to believe it… you do."

"I'm not feeling guilt over his death… at least not too much. I regret that he died, and I wish there had been something else I could have done, but this decision has nothing to do with that. That's in the past… it's the future I'm worried about. The future I have to protect."

"Protect, how? By running away from your problems? Alan, this isn't like you, and we need you here, you're not just family you're part of the team. Whatever it is just tell me, we can work it out."

"You won't understand Gordon."

"Tell me, please."

Alan took a deeply steading breath. "All right, something happened to me on that rescue. Ever since then I've been having a vision…" Alan told him of his vision, leaving out none of the details that had now become so familiar to him and trying to explain the feeling of certainty that came with the vision, a certainty that Scott's death was his fault. When he finished he waited for Gordon's reaction.

Gordon seemed confused. "That's it? That's the reason you want to leave? John told us about your dreams after the accident. Alan they're just dreams, they aren't real."

Alan felt his anger spike. "I knew you wouldn't believe me! They aren't dreams Gordon, it's one vision, always exactly the same. Nothing changes at all in any detail and I don't have them just when I sleep, I have them all the time, awake or not!"

"Well, at least that explains what's been going on between you and Scott. Do you know the guy's convinced himself that you've lost confidence in him."

"What? Why?" Alan was surprised.

Gordon rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I don't know, how about the fact that you virtually run away whenever you see him? The pair of you, I swear I don't know which is worse. Alan, look man, you may not want to hear this but that doesn't make it any more real. What's more likely, you suddenly develop a psychic ability or you're suffering emotional stress over the loss of a life and have fixated on a drug induced hallucination?"

"Oh, great, so now I'm crazy?"

"No, damn it, but you are hurting Alan, we can all see that."

"What's the use? You've all already decided, and nothing I say is going to convince you I'm not crazy, but think about it Gordon, would you trust me on a rescue?"

"Of course I would," Gordon denied but the hesitation before he spoke was far more telling than his words. His brother wouldn't trust him in a rescue situation. The thought confirmed Alan's resolve and he knew that no matter what his family said or how hard they tried to convince him, for all their sakes, most especially Scott's he would be leaving the island.

It actually took Alan four days to make the arrangements he needed and for his family to come to a grudging acceptance of his decision. Not that they really had any other choice, he was an adult and could do as he pleased. At least things had improved between him and Scott, and Scott was once again the confident leader Alan had known all his life. Alan greatly preferred this version of his brother to the slightly hesitant and unsure one he'd seen in the last few weeks, and Alan sensed Gordon's unique brand of intercession going on behind the scenes.

Alan banked his plane through another leg of the holding pattern New York's air traffic control had put him in. The congestion was the worst Alan had ever seen it and he struggled to contain his annoyance. He was a private citizen now, and whereas International Rescue operative Alan Tracy would be given a top priority approach, civilian Alan Tracy had to wait his turn.

Alan's watch vibrated and he tapped the screen to turn it on. He'd wanted to return the communications device when he formally resigned but his father had refused to even consider it. His father's face filled the screen looking mildly confused. "You haven't arrived yet?"

Alan shook his head. "No there's been a delay, but I'm sixth in the queue so I expect I'll be landing shortly. Is something up?"

"No, everything's fine. I was checking to see how you were, and wondering if you'd given anymore thought to my proposal?"

Alan smiled, he'd made, and apparently just won, a bet with himself that his father would call him before he make it to the hotel to try once again to convince him to have a "holiday" in Australia at the Bongo Bongo station. Alan knew once Lady P got a hold of him she would have him convinced that his vision was just a dream and that he really should rejoin the family business. Penelope was very good at her job and since her mission was something Alan wanted more than anything, she would be sure of success. Only the thought of Scott kept Alan from agreeing. It was a risk he simply could not take.

Alan shook his head. "No, thanks dad, I'd rather just get back to work and helping you with Tracy industries is something I can do to help."

His father sighed in disappointment. "All right, son, I'll let you prepare for your landing. I'll call you tomorrow and we can go over the details of the Franklin Engineering merger."

"Okay, Dad, talk to you tomorrow."

Alan closed his communication and waited until the tower cleared him to land. The central hanger complex was as busy and chaotic as always with hundreds of aircraft of various sizes and shapes being lifted and lowered from their hanger storage areas. Alan found himself assigned to a slot on the eighteenth floor, a little over halfway up the massive thirty floor structure. He taxied the plane onto the automatic hoist and rode up in the jet as he gathered his luggage and flight-bag. Stepping out he palm-locked the jet then turned to head for the public elevator.

The view from the level eighteen balcony hit him with an intense wave of deja-vu and he recognised the scene as the one from his vision but without the smoke and flames. What he'd mistaken for machinery and equipment in the disaster was actually the stored aircraft. A sense of dread washed trough him and he quickly turned back to his jet and opened the door. He made it to the emergency kit stowed under the pilot's seat when the explosion hit.

Something unidentifiable but huge crashed through the top of the building twelve floors above him, exploding into flame. It spread burning debris as it fell, igniting the fuel and other flammables it touched on the way. Alan was slammed against the inside of his own jet from the concussion wave of a nearby explosion.

He knew he must have blacked out but he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, or how he came to be lying on the ceiling of his plane with a broken seat pressing heavily into his chest, pinning him down. He could hear his father frantically calling his name, which confused him since he'd been certain he was travelling alone. Then some of the haze cleared from his mind ad he remembered his watch. Wiggling that arm free of the debris covering it he brought it to where he could see the screen.

"Dad?"

"Alan! Are you alright, son?"

Alan blinked and tried to clear his thoughts. "Yeah, I think so. There was an explosion…"

"We know, Alan. Listen your brothers are on site now. Gordon's taking the Firefly in at ground level to try and contain the fire. Scott and Virgil are using Thunderbird 2 to rescue the survivors from the roof. Can you get yourself free and meet them there?"

Alan moved experimentally. The sharp burning pain in his right leg let him know he'd suffered a broken bone but he couldn't tell how bad the break was. Using his left leg as a brace he pushed and found that he was able to free himself from the tangled ruins of his plane. "I can get myself clear, but I've hurt my leg, Dad, I don't think I can make it to the roof."

"All right son, hold on. As soon as the other survivors are clear, Scott will come for you."

The same vision that had plagued him for weeks came back to him, except this time Alan knew for sure it was real. "Dad, wait! Tell Scott to use the rescue platform, don't let him try to climb down here the structure's not stable enough!" Alan called, nearly panicking.

"Calm down, Alan. I'll tell him."

Alan calmed himself. "Okay, thanks Dad."

It took Alan several minutes to drag himself free of the wreckage and to get himself out onto the balcony. The elevator he'd been planing to step into was gone, pulled from its mounts and hurled to the ground eighteen floors below. The emergency stairs that had been beside the elevator were twisted sideways and useless, just as they had been in his dreams. Alan prayed his father had passed on his message and that Scott had acted on it. The thought that his dream may about to become real made him sick to his stomach.

Alan almost cried in relief as he saw the dark shadow of Thunderbird two eclipsing the gap above him and the rescue platform begin to descend from the rescue bay on the underside of the mammoth ship. Scott reached his level and stepped easily from the rescue pod and onto the balcony beside him.

"Hey, kid, Dad tells me you wanted to travel in comfort." Scott said nodding toward the rescue pod as he knelt and quickly checked Alan's condition. "Your chariot awaits."

Scott slid a strong arm around Alan's middle and helped him up and supported him as they crossed over onto the rescue platform. As soon as they were aboard it began to rise. When they were clear of danger and being retracted back into the safety of Thunderbird 2's fuselage Alan felt his consciousness slipping away.

A strange thought struck him as he slid into the dark. In all his visions he'd seen but missed one small but important detail. He'd noticed Scott wearing his International Rescue uniform but he'd missed the fact that his own hand reaching up toward his brother was clad in a simple brown material, just like the shirt he was currently wearing. If he hadn't started having those visions, or if he had ignored them instead of acting on them none of this would have happened. Believing in his vision had allowed it to come true, thankfully it had also allowed him to change the ending.

Alan dreamed.

He stood in a thickly forested area. The heavy covering of snow built into drifts several feet deep glistened in the morning light. A pained wheezing cough brought his attention to the man on the ground next to him. Gordon looked terrible.

"Any sign of them?" his brother gasped, a thin trickle of blood escaping from the side of his mouth…

Mapu

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